So we left after lunch from Pikes. Nice place.
I had the waitress give me directions back to HWY 30 which were easy enough. So out I went. It was odd not being in a group after riding around with so many other valks all day. I hopped on 30 East and zoomed over a stretch of road that needs repaving. I was in New Oxford when I realized that I was supposed to be going west. I'd spent the entire day before heading east and forgot that I needed to go the other way...
So around we turned around the square in New Oxford.
Then back over that stretch of road...the other lane needs repaving too.
Back in town Gettysburg I honked at a few valks that were parking downtown.
I was looking for a chance to tell Dino and Bob E to ride safe, but I never spotted the brewery that they were at.
Then back up Hwy30.
The night before, in a parking lot Dino had told me another way to head home.
So I took Hwy30 to 220 to see something new and different. I remembered that part.
I remembered that I was heading toward Altoona and went the right direction which was helpful.
I forgot that I needed to run 22 to 422 (which runs into Indiana). I was cruising along looking for 422 which apparently doesn't cross 220/90 at all.
In road construction on a ridge I thought, "that's odd the cross wind feels stronger than I'd expect." But sometimes it does. Then I thought, "the trees aren't blowing, why am I?" So I slowed down and the wobble remained. I told my wife to hold on and I pulled between the barrels to the side of the road.
Didn't take long to figure out.
Seemed fairly straight forward.
Everyone I know in the state of PA was back in Gettysburg. I felt confident that they would have tried to lend a hand if they could have...but I was half a state away.
I pulled out the small bag of tools that I carried on the XS11. I haven't used them much since. I found some old spark plugs, tools that have gotten damp and need to be cleaned and oiled, but no tire plugging kit, and surely no canned air.
So we did what we had to do.
My wife called the State HP. They told her that you couldn't plug motorcycle tires on the rim. She said that you could and send someone anyway. She handed the phone to me because the State HP guy had talked to her in the stupid-female-voice and she was pissed. By they way, she knows more about wrench turning than most of guy friends. She has a fair amount of respect for the police, but doesn't like it when they treat her like she's stupid.
A few minutes later a wrecker showed up. He had a tire plugging kit and an air compressor. We pumped it full of air and proceeded to pull out the problem (which I had found by rolling it down hill until I saw it).
When we pulled it out my thoughts were confirmed: bone. That's what I thought it looked like when I found the air hissing.
The puncture in my tire was caused by bone.
I remember trying to dodge between a pot hole and a piece of road kill and knowing that I had clipped the side of the flat critter. I hadn't thought much of it. The valk generally runs over pre-flattened critters without any trouble when it has to. But this time the critter won.
That was the most expensive road kill I've hit.
The mechanic plugged it with a nice dog-poo on a string plug. He pumped the tire. Then as he was straightening out his hose he managed to lose his tire chuck in the weeds. We paid and left him searching for his tire chuck.
It was a nice day to be on the side of the road I guess...not to hot...not wet. Could have been worse.
I realized I'd over shot part of the directions outside of State College, PA.
Stopping at a subway that had a map on the wall told me I needed to turn around, which I did.
30 miles back the other direction I found 22 which took me to Blairsville and then 422 which brought me into Indiana PA.
So I've got the tire plugged and its holding air. I could probably ride it a while that way, but I prefer to replace it, which I'll do when I get a chance.
